


Wrapped Up in Clover

by takethisnight_wrapitaroundme



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Mortal, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I literally wrote this at 3 AM lord help me, I love them too much, Interracial Relationship, Loving Day, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Mild Sexual Content, Morning Sex, POV Nile Freeman, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, they are SO overly affectionate in this but I can't make myself apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme/pseuds/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme
Summary: It took a text from her mother for Nile to realize it was June 12th.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman
Comments: 36
Kudos: 190
Collections: Book of Nile Collection!





	Wrapped Up in Clover

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Etta for the title, and thanks to my mom for inadvertently and unknowingly inspiring this fic. Enjoy, friends! :)

When Nile woke on Sunday, Sébastien was still asleep, snoring softly in bed beside her. Nile shifted on the mattress, turning onto her side to see him better. She’d always liked watching him sleep. He kept so still as he slept, rarely moving in the night, and she loved the way his usually broad shoulders seemed to cave in on themselves as he lay slumped over a pillow. His body always felt so massive around hers whenever they made love, capable of covering every inch of her and then some, but when he slept, he seemed so much smaller than all that.

Whenever she was the first to wake, she usually ended up doing this—stretching out and curling in close to him, pressing gentle kisses to his face and shoulder until finally he woke too. He did so with a groan this morning, like a bear being forced prematurely out of hibernation, and she snickered at the ruckus he always insisted on making. Without opening his eyes, he threw an arm out and hooked it around her back, hauling her flush against him. She let herself be pulled in—it was as easy as gravity—and hummed in satisfaction at the familiar way their bodies fit together.

He had slept shirtless the night before, and she could feel the heat of his bare chest against hers through her thin tank top. Already, one of his hands was toying with the hem, fingertips eager to get at the skin beneath, and she might’ve called him out on it if she hadn’t thrown a leg over his side in blatant invitation the second he’d pulled her close.

“What’s the plan for today?” he murmured, sliding his hand up to cup her ribcage beneath her shirt. “Do we want to stay in bed all day, or do we want to stay in bed all day?”

Nile snickered. “You promised me brunch, remember?”

“Mm, we can do brunch here.” He pressed a kiss to her neck. “I’ll bring you it in bed.”

“I want _real_ brunch,” Nile protested. Pity that in arching her back to make a point, she only brought them closer together. Or maybe it wasn’t a pity at all. “With menus,” she mumbled, eyes falling closed as he rolled her onto her back. “And tablecloths. Mimosas. Sébastien, I want _waitstaff_ , come on…”

“Brunch soon,” he promised. “But sex first. Oui? Tu es d’accord?”

All she could do was spread her legs and smile. “D’accord, d’accord. Viens ici.”

Afterwards, they showered, and when they ran out of hot water in the shower, they finally managed to stop touching each other long enough to get dressed. It was nearly eleven by the time they finally starting putting on clothes, and by then, the Louisiana heat had really ratcheted up. It was only the second week of June, but already Nile knew it would be a sweat-through-your-clothes type of day. She resolved to find somewhere near the water to eat, so they could hopefully catch a breeze or two.

“Mm.” Appreciation rumbled deep in Sébastien’s chest as he passed her on his way to the kitchen. “I like that dress.”

“Oh yeah?” Nile smiled, catching his eye in the mirror as she slipped on her earrings. She was wearing a bright yellow maxi dress with a faint floral pattern. “Got it last week.”

“I love when you buy new clothes, baby, it’s like Christmas for me,” he called back, and Nile laughed to herself, touching up her hair in the mirror before grabbing her purse and meeting him at the door.

Humidity was settling in, but it wasn’t so bad that they couldn’t walk twenty minutes to the waterline. Sébastien held her hand as they set off, and Nile found herself gravitating closer to him in spite of the heat. There was something about making love in the morning that made her want to be as close as possible to him all day. Maybe, she thought to herself with a smile, she should’ve taken him up on his offer for breakfast in bed after all.

Thankfully the wait wasn’t long at their favorite spot. It wasn’t spring break, and it was too early for most of the party-going tourists, so town was subdued this morning, and Nile relished the sleepy side of New Orleans. People never believed her when she said it could be a quiet town.

They spent most of the meal chattering about work and friends, and carefully laying the groundwork for what Nile knew would be an utter disaster: Sébastien’s family visiting from France for the entire month of August. To his credit, he’d been gently trying to talk them out of it for half a year now, but they would not be deterred. They didn’t seem to understand how unbearably hot it got here at the end of summer. And they seemed to think hurricane season was something newscasters made up as a ratings ploy.

 _They just want to see where we live,_ Sébastien kept repeating with a sigh, and Nile could only shake her head grimly and reply, _They’ll see, all right. They’ll see and they won’t like it._

Sébastien didn’t bother to argue further—Nile had always had a rare inadequacy streak when faced with his family—and so after they called for the check, he got to his feet to go to the bathroom, leaving the conversation as is. He kissed her hair as he stepped away, knowing that there was little other comfort he could offer at this point. They both knew the trip would go badly—at least they were united on that front. Just how badly it would go had yet to be seen, but they’d find a way through it together, as they did everything else.

While he was gone, Nile busied herself with her phone, answering a couple texts and checking email. It was just as Sébastien was walking back to the table that a text came in from her mother.

> _Happy Loving Day, sweetheart! Give S a hug for me. Hope you two are having a nice day._ ❤️

Nile smiled at the message, feeling a little bloom of warmth burst and expand in her chest. She hadn’t even realized today was the twelfth.

“What are you smiling about over there?” Sébastien teased as he sat back down.

“Nothing,” Nile replied, waving him away as she tucked her phone back in her purse, message unanswered. “Just a text from my mom.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she have to say?”

Nile watched as he settled the check. For a moment, she wondered if she should tell him the truth. And then a second later she wondered why in the world she was even thinking of hiding it in the first place.

“My mom wanted to wish us a happy Loving Day,” Nile answered, watching his face as he calculated the tip. “And she wanted me to give you a hug from her.”

“Hey, tell her thanks. I’ll hug her twice the next time we’re in Chicago.”

Sébastien slid his card back into his wallet, and Nile joined him as he got to his feet. After a moment’s discussion, they decided to take a walk down to Woldenberg Park.

They only made it a half-block from the restaurant when he asked, “So what’s a loving day, by the way? Is this another one of those Puritan holidays?”

Nile smiled faintly at the question, unsurprised to hear he didn’t know about it. He’d only lived in the United States for the last five years. Plenty of people who had lived here their entire lives had never heard of the day. She didn’t expect a French citizen to know about it simply because he’d been dating a black American woman for a few years.

“Nile?”

She’d gone quiet for too long. He was staring at her now, waiting for an answer, and she almost said, _It’s nothing._

But it wasn’t nothing.

She and Sébastien might not be married, but they did live together, and Nile knew they owed their happiness, and the easy way they could walk through life hand in hand, to that couple from Virginia and their team of lawyers. She had friends who owed their very existence to that court case.

It wasn’t _nothing_.

“It’s, um… It’s kind of a holiday,” she explained slowly as they walked. “But an unofficial one. Sort of like Juneteenth, you know? It’s—” She almost said _It’s a black people thing_ , but it wasn’t just for them, and that was the entire point. “It’s the anniversary of a Supreme Court decision. There was this couple back in the Sixties, the Lovings, they were—well, they were kind of like you and me.” She hadn’t thought about that small commonality before, but it was true. “He was white and she was black and Native American, and they got married. But back then it was illegal in Virginia, so they were arrested and thrown in jail. Cops broke into their house in the middle of the night and just—hauled them off, no warning.”

Nile paused, her throat suddenly a little tight. She didn’t think often about the Lovings, but recounting the facts now, to someone who had never heard of them, made it all feel much more real than usual. The Sixties weren’t so long ago. And Nile wasn’t naïve; she knew there were still people in this country who didn’t much like the changes that decade had brought about.

She thought of the way she and Sébastien had made love this morning, slow and lazy and peaceful. She thought of how they’d gone to bed the night before, with her snuggled close to his bare chest and him with an arm wrapped around her back.

What would it have been like to have someone walk in, rip them apart, and lock them up for no reason besides the fact that they didn’t like what they saw?

Nile took a breath, forcing the thought away, and finished explaining.

“The judge ruled against them in Virginia, said their marriage wasn’t legal because they were of different races. They kept appealing and eventually the case ended up at the Supreme Court. _Loving v. Virginia._ ”

“How aptly named,” Sébastien commented quietly.

“Yeah.” Nile smiled briefly in agreement. She’d thought the same thing the first time she’d ever heard the story as a kid. She’d thought it was just that—a story. It had to be, because real life was never so poetic.

“Anyway,” she continued, “the Supreme Court finally ruled in their favor. So that overturned all the state bans on interracial marriage, including Virginia’s. And that was on June 12th. So…” She shrugged awkwardly, feeling like she was doing a poor job reaching the climax of the story. “Here we are, I guess.”

They walked for a few minutes in silence, following the bend in the Mississippi. The park was busy this afternoon: full of couples sunbathing and families picnicking and groups of kids throwing footballs and frisbees. Not for the first time, Nile noticed how many more black people there were than white in the crowds. They made her feel homesick and they made her feel at home, all at once.

As she and Sébastien slowed in their walk, they migrated to the far side of the brick promenade, and posted up against a railing overlooking the wide expanse of the Mississippi River. When the breeze picked up, she leaned against Sébastien and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“So,” he said after a little while. “How are we supposed to celebrate this Loving Day? Set off a bunch of fireworks or something? I know how you Americans love your fireworks.”

“Oh, _we_ love fireworks, do we?” Nile scoffed. “I’m sorry, have you forgotten what _your_ country looks like on the fourteenth of July?”

Sébastien laughed. “Touché.”

Nile bumped her side affectionately against his. “No fireworks,” she said softly, laying her head on his shoulder. “Like I told you, it’s not a big national thing. It’s more private, for families and couples. It’s just a nice day to mark.”

“Okay, then we can celebrate in private.” Nile was shaking her head, already rolling her eyes at what she knew he was about to say before he’d even said it. “What do you think?” he whispered, lowering his voice as he leaned close. “It’s barely two. We still have the whole second half of the day ahead of us to have sex. I think that’s a good way to commemorate such an important day, don’t you think?”

“You are so stupid,” she muttered, but even though she tried, she couldn’t hide a smile.

She stared out at the river for a few seconds so she wouldn’t have to see the pleased look on his face, but it was fruitless—when she looked back, he was still grinning. She kissed him just to shut him up.

“You know something that would be nice,” she realized as they broke apart, “is taking a photo for my mom. She’s the one who reminded me of today in the first place, and you know how she always likes to see what we’re up to.”

Sébastien made a face, turning away to the river. He hated selfies.

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” she muttered, reaching for her phone. “It’s not going to be framed anywhere. It’s just for my mom.”

“Knowing your mom, she probably _will_ frame it,” Sébastien muttered darkly, but he gave in and faced forward anyway.

The first couple shots didn’t turn out too well—the angle was awkward in one, the sun too bright behind them in the other. They were both blinking in the third. After the sixth try, Sébastien snatched the phone from her. He had longer arms, so the perspective was better, but his coordination was worse, so all the images were slightly off-kilter. It was part of why he hated taking selfies.

They were bickering over which of the two least-worst options to send to her mother when a teenage Asian girl on a skateboard slowed to a stop a few feet away, headphones dangling from one hand. Her Louisiana accent was as slow and thick as the humidity in the air.

“Want me to take your picture?”

“No, we’re fine,” Nile started to say, but Sébastien had already stolen her phone and was walking it over to the girl.

“Please,” he said, folding his hands together as if in prayer, “give us _one_ usable one. It’s all I ask.”

The girl laughed, tucking her headphones away as she took the phone. Nile eyed him suspiciously as he walked back to her side.

“Seriously?” she muttered as he slid an arm around her waist. “You trust a fourteen-year-old girl’s photography skills more than mine?”

“Shh,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Time to focus up. Act like you love me, we’ve gotta keep up the charade for your mom.”

The teasing had the desired effect and Nile grinned wide, leaning her head against his as the girl started taking pictures. She was diligent, Nile had to admit—turning the phone this way and that, and moving around to capture various angles.

Nile could feel the sun warming the back of her neck, and Sébastien was so solid and tall beside her, and it was a _good_ day. Suddenly she didn’t care that their picture was being taken. She felt the need to memorialize the moment, to make public her happiness, and so she did what was natural and she leaned up to kiss him.

It went on maybe a little longer than was strictly appropriate, given that a teenage girl was standing so close to them, but when Nile pulled away, she couldn’t find it in her to feel any embarrassment. Sébastien was smiling at her, reaching out to tuck some of her braids behind her ear, and all she felt was warm and happy and so full of love. And she could see it all reflected there in his eyes. So she kissed him again, simply because she couldn’t stand not to. And then they behaved and faced the camera again.

“I think there’s some good ones in there,” the girl called finally, shielding her eyes with one hand as she walked over to return the phone. “But let me know if not, and I can take some more.”

Nile nodded, accepting her cell with a smile. She expected the girl to go on her way immediately, but she lingered for a minute, watching as they paged through picture after picture.

“Oh, these are _perfect_ ,” Nile murmured. The girl hadn’t taken just one good one—she’d taken dozens. Maybe they’d frame a few after all; the quality was that good. She especially liked the more candid ones, where they weren’t looking right at the camera but were instead focused on each other. “Thank you so much,” she told the girl. “Really—these are wonderful. I feel like I should pay you or something.”

“Eh, no worries,” the girl replied. She was already putting her headphones back in her ears and stepping onto her skateboard. “You guys did all the work; pictures would’ve turned out cute no matter what. All I had to do was point and shoot.” She raised a hand in a mock salute as she kicked off. “Have a nice day now.”

Nile watched the girl go, wondering if she knew the importance of the day. Who knows, maybe she was off to celebrate the day with a partner too. The thought made Nile smile as she passed her phone to Sébastien.

“Pick your favorite,” she told him, “and send it to my mom.”

His eyebrows shot up in feigned shock at the responsibility, and she slid her arm through his, pulling him along down the riverfront as he scrolled. After a couple minutes, he passed her phone back, still open to the messages app. Nile glanced down and was surprised to see the image he picked. It wasn’t one of the ones where they were both looking at the camera—nor one of the ones where they were busy kissing.

It was a quiet, understated image—like a picture taken a half-second before _the_ picture. To anyone else, it might’ve ended up on the cutting room floor. In it, they were standing beside one another, but Nile was just a half-step in front of him, so with his arm around her waist it looked like Sébastien was hugging her from behind. Nile had a small, close-lipped smile on her face as she looked out at the camera. Sébastien was smiling fondly at her, but his head was only slightly turned to hers, as if he were trying not to get caught in the act of admiring her. As if he couldn’t stand to look away from her long enough for a photo to be taken.

“What made you pick this one?” Nile asked, watching as her mother texted back an avalanche of heart emojis in response.

Sébastien shrugged. “Just thought it was a good representation of the bunch. Why? You don’t like it?”

Nile shook her head, putting away her phone as she took his hand. “No, I love it.”

They spent the rest of the day as they did most weekends: wandering around town, looking into shops, stopping here and there for a bite to eat or a drink. His earlier question about celebrations echoed in her head, and even as Nile tried to think of something special to do, she couldn’t help but think that this was the way to celebrate the day: to just live life as usual, and be grateful no one was stopping them.

She didn’t think much about that couple from Virginia until late that evening, when she and Sébastien were already in bed. It was one of those too-hot nights, where neither of them could quite get comfortable enough to drift off. Nile avoided looking at the clock, but she knew it had to be well after one in the morning. They lay on their sides, facing each other through the darkness, but keeping enough space between them in the hopes that an errant breeze passing through the open windows might cool them off. They’d been talking on and off, about nothing very important, for the last hour or two. But there was something different in his voice when Sébastien whispered her name now.

Nile looked over, but it was hard to read his gaze in the half light shining in from the street lamps. She shifted a little closer on instinct. “What is it?” she whispered.

She watched as a furrow appeared to disrupt the usual smoothness of his forehead. Suddenly, he seemed to have trouble meeting her gaze. “I wanted to say I’m sorry that I didn’t know about today. I’m really sorry.”

“What?” Her face pinched in confusion. “Sébastien, you don’t have to apologize. Plenty of people don’t know about it.”

“Yeah, and what kind of people are those?” His voice was hard, and she frowned at the edge of self-hatred in it. “You and I have been together for years. I shouldn’t have made you explain. I should’ve _known_.”

She sighed, but didn’t bother pressing the point. Instead, she reached out and stroked the line of his forearm with a couple fingertips. She knew better than to try to soothe him with words when he got into moods like this. He was too hard on himself and he always had been.

But tonight, as she brushed her fingers against the short hairs on his forearm, she wondered if there was something else at play here. He hadn’t mentioned it, earlier today when they’d discussed means of celebration to commemorate the day, but she had felt it there in the air between them. It seemed like it was always between them these days, especially now that his family was coming to visit for so many weeks.

More than having sex, and certainly more than shooting off fireworks, one way to celebrate Loving Day—and arguably the most suitable way—would be for them to get married.

He’d been dropping hints the last few months. Nile wasn’t sure exactly when it had started, but it hadn’t take her long to realize what all the casual little comments naturalization and house-hunting meant. She told herself they’d get through August first, and then she’d sit him down so they could talk it through like adults.

But why wait? Now was as good a time as any, and it wasn’t the Sixties anymore. There was nothing to be afraid of. They weren’t going to get thrown in jail just for wanting to be together.

“Hey, Sébastien?”

“Yeah?”

Nile swallowed, trying not to think about how quickly her heart was suddenly beating in her chest. She reminded herself once again that there was nothing to be scared of. But when she thought again of all the comments he’d made over the last few months, she wondered if she’d somehow misconstrued them. Maybe he just liked to plan. Maybe he hated their tiny apartment, and was sick of not being a real citizen. Maybe it was all that simple, and had nothing to do with her or them.

But no matter, Nile couldn’t wait and wonder any longer.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” She licked her lips, adding anxiously into the dead silence, “To me, I mean?”

He said nothing. They stared at each other across the sheets, eyes locked and unblinking.

It felt like entire lifetimes passed before he spoke, and when he did, it was in a voice so hushed it was hardly louder than a breath.

“When did you find it?”

Nile’s heart thundered in her chest, and all she could do at first was shake her head.

“I didn’t find anything,” she managed to whisper. And then, because she couldn’t stand the suspense: “When did you buy it?”

He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He’d rolled over onto his back and covered his face with his hands. He exhaled hard and long and loud, like a whale surfacing.

She sat up, drawing her legs beneath her. She felt very lightheaded all of a sudden. “Sébastien. Talk to me. When did you buy it?”

When he didn’t say anything, she yanked his arm, pulling one hand away from his face. When he still avoided looking at her, she straddled his waist and cupped his face in her hands.

“Baby, talk to me. Regarde-moi. Parle-moi. Come on.”

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen,” he mumbled, sounding as if he were in some kind of deep, psychic pain. “I had a plan. There were things we were supposed to _discuss_ before the topic ever even came up. And I wanted to talk to your mother—”

“My mother? What for?”

When he met her gaze, she couldn’t help the shout of laughter that escaped. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.

“Oh, no,” she whispered, dropping her hand. “You were not seriously going to ask for her _blessing_ , were you? What century do you think you’re in?”

“I’m a gentleman. We’re timeless.”

“You’re an idiot is what you are.”

“You know,” he frowned, pushing himself up on his elbows, “that’s the second time you’ve insulted my intelligence today. Meanwhile, all I’ve done all day is be nice to you.”

“If I apologize, will you show me the ring?”

His eyes brightened with excitement for a split-second before he shook his head.

“No,” he replied firmly, pushing himself fully up into a sitting position. “No, you don’t get to see it. No way.”

“Oh, come on!” she complained, tugging on his shoulders. “I already know it exists! What's the harm in a peek?”

“You weren’t _supposed_ _to know_ it exists,” he shot back. “So if I can keep one secret to myself, it’s going to be what the thing looks like. You’re not seeing it until I’m asking.”

“You’re no fun,” she accused.

“Never claimed to be any.”

She pursed her lips, doing her best to scowl, but she couldn’t hold in the smile fighting to get out. She surged forward, kissing him so hard on the mouth he had to brace one hand against the mattress so he didn’t fall back. The other he wrapped around her back, hugging her close as they kissed and kissed and kissed.

“Can’t believe you’ve been _hiding_ all this from me,” she murmured when they broke apart. “You’re so bad with secrets.”

“I am not. Remember your thirtieth? I kept that a surprise for like three months.”

“That was a party.”

“It was good practice.”

She grinned, leaning her forehead against his. She closed her eyes as he ran his hands up and down her back. “I know you’re not asking,” she whispered, “so I’m not answering. But I want you to know that I love you. Okay? I love you so much.”

“Mm.” She felt his head bob as he nodded. “I love you too. More than you know.”

That, she thought, was actually true.

She opened her eyes. “And Sébastien?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you dare ambush me in public.”

He laughed, leaning back. “You really think I’d throw you under the bus like that?”

“I would not put it past you.”

“You have no faith in me, do you?”

“I have every faith in you, actually. That’s how I know you’d pull something like that just to embarrass me.”

“Well.” His arms tightened around her. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”

She groaned theatrically, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. When he leaned forward to press a kiss between her collarbones, she smiled and ran her hands through his hair, touching her lips to the crown of his head. Over on the bedside table, she could see the little clock read three AM. She realized that she suddenly felt wide awake, and she wondered if they’d just stay up until dawn. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d watched the sun rise over the city together.

“It’s a pity you didn’t actually ask,” she teased as he lifted his head from her chest. “Would’ve been a good story for my mom. I think if we told her you proposed to me on Loving Day, she might’ve actually burst into tears.”

Sébastien chuckled. “Maybe that’ll be the new plan, then. You can wait a year, can’t you?”

Nile scrunched her nose in distaste, and he smiled, soothing away the worry with a whisper.

“I won’t make you wait that long, I promise. This time next year…” When she raised her eyebrows, he ducked his head, bashful. “Well, depending on what you say… _Maybe_ we’ll have something new to celebrate this time next year.”

“I’d like that.” Nile cupped his jaw, stroking her thumb against his cheekbone. “But you know we don’t need a special day to celebrate these things. Every day can be like this.”

He smiled. “Every day already is.”

**Author's Note:**

> This one came out of nowhere and surprised me, but I really enjoyed working on it! I am such a sucker for these two. <3 I’d love to hear your thoughts. :)
> 
> PS, If this is the first you’re hearing of them, there’s a lot more to Mildred & Richard Loving’s lives and their legal battles than what Nile briefly outlines to Sébastien here. (I didn’t want to put y’all through a US history lesson.) If you’re interested, [this](https://www.washingtonian.com/2016/11/02/virginia-case-legalized-interracial-marriage-the-loving-story/) is a cool oral history, and the film _[Loving](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRXuCY7tRgk)_ is so beautifully done.
> 
> Thanks very much for reading!


End file.
